health, and even in London takes long rides into the country, which have done her great good' (Ashley, Life of Palmerston, i. 344). Under Melbourne's guidance, and in agreement with her own wish, she daily perused masses of despatches and correspondence with exemplary diligence.
Outside politics her chief interest lay in the preparations that were in progress for her coronation and for the festivities accompanying it. Three state balls one on 18 June, the day of Waterloo, a choice of date which offended the French two levees, a drawing-room, a state concert, a first state visit to Ascot, and attendance at Eton 'montem' immediately preceded the elaborate ceremonial, which took The coronation, 28 June 1838. place on 28 June 1838, eight days after the anniversary of her accession. The ministers resolved to endow it with exceptional splendour. For the expenses of William IV's coronation 50,000l. had been allowed. No less a sum than 200,000l. was voted by parliament for the expenses of Queen Victoria's coronation. Westminster Abbey was elaborately decorated in crimson and gold. The royal procession to the abbey was revived for the first time since the coronation of George III in 1761, and four hundred thousand persons came to London to witness it, many bivouacking in the streets the night before. At 10 A.M. on the appointed day, in magnificent weather, the queen left Buckingham Palace in full panoply of state, passing up Constitution Hill, along Piccadilly, down St. James's Street, and across Trafalgar Square, which had just been laid out in Nelson's memory. The abbey was reached by way of Parliament Street at 11.30. Among foreign visitors, who went thither in advance of the queen, was Marshal Soult, the representative of France, whom the crowds received with hardly less enthusiasm than her majesty. The great company of her German relatives included her uncle the Duke of Saxe-Coburg and her half-brother and half-sister of Leiningen. When the queen entered the abbey, 'with eight ladies all in white, floating about her like a silvery cloud, she paused, as if for breath, and clasped her hands' (Stanley). A ray of sunlight fell on her head as she knelt to receive the crown, and the Duchess of Kent burst into tears. The brilliance of the scene impressed every one, but there were some drawbacks. Harriet Martineau, who was present, wrote: 'The brightness, vastness, and dreamy magnificence produced a strange effect of exhaustion and sleepiness.' The queen, too, suffered not only from natural emotion and fatigue, but from the hesitation of the officiating clergy as to the exact part she was to play in many parts of the long ritual, and from the insufficient training that had been accorded her. 'Pray tell me what I am to do, for they [i.e. the clergy] don't know,' she said at one solemn point to a lay official who stood near her. She complained that the orb which was unexpectedly put into her hand was too heavy for her to hold ; and when the ruby ring, which had been made for her little finger, was forced by the archbishop onto her fourth, she nearly cried out with the pain. For the first time at a coronation, the commons were allowed to acclaim her after the peers. The latter had enjoyed the privilege from time immemorial. The commons now cheered their sovereign nine times (Gent. Mag. 1838, ii. 198); but Dean Stanley, who, then a boy, sat in a gallery, thought all the responses and acclamations were feebly given. Towards the close of the ceremony a singular accident befell Lord Rolle, a peer, eighty years old, as he was endeavouring to offer his homage. He ' fell down as he was getting up the steps of the throne.' The queen's ' first impulse was to rise, and when afterwards he came again to do homage she said, " May I not get up and meet him ? " and then rose from the throne and advanced down one or two of the steps to prevent his coming up, an act of graciousness and kindness which made a great sensation' (Geville, 2nd ser. i. 107). While the peers were doing homage, the lord- chamberlain and his officers flung medals, specially designed by Pistrucci, for the spectators to scramble for, and the confusion was not dignified. At length the ceremonial, which lasted more than five hours, ended, and at a quarter past four the queen returned to Buckingham Palace. She then wore her crown and all her apparel of state, but she looked to spectators pale and tremulous. Carlyle, who was in the throng, breathed a blessing on her : 'Poor little queen!' he added, 'she is at an age at which a girl can hardly be trusted to choose a bonnet for herself ; yet a task is laid upon her from which an archangel might shrink.' But despite her zeal to fulfil the esponsibilities of her station, she still had much of the child's lightness and simplicity of heart. On returning to the palace she hastily doffed her splendours in order to give her pet spaniel, Dash, its afternoon bath (Leslie). She then dined quietly with her relatives who were her guests, and after sending a message of inquiry to the unfortunate Lord Rolle, concluded the day by witnessing from the roof of the palace the public illuminations and fireworks in the
